His Severe Case of Stockholm Syndrome
by brilliantmemories
Summary: Desmond escaped, leaving Shaun Hastings to the hands of Abstergo and the lethal Animus. The end has come for the lost historian - until Vidic thinks of a brilliant way to keep him around because of his unreasonable state. Multi-chaptered. Review, please!
1. Tumbling Into Another Trap

Shaun felt pathetically dirty, succumbing to his venomous words.

His heart was beating with a hardened agony inside his chest and his stomach was churning, making him feel completely uneasy. A blindfold was tied tightly around his head, blinding him from his surroundings, leaving him to see a world of a cruel black. Painfully, he could feel the knot digging into the back of his head and it felt as if it was going to leave a permanent indent. As he sucked in a breath, he could feel the cool air fill his tired lungs; tired from screaming, breathing heavily, and crying. The ragged rope was digging into his wrists, which were growing thin from the lack of nutrients, and it seemed as if his fingers were nonexistent. His feet shuffled across the concrete ground and his ears picked up the sounds of unknown multiple footsteps – but he knew whose hand was on his arm.

Biting back a scream, he heard a small exchange of whispered words in Italian, and though he couldn't make them out, he could hear that Warren Vidic also wasn't exactly fluent in the foreign language. He was a pure American, perhaps with faint traces back to Europe somewhere, like almost everyone else in the building. Hearing the door slide shut behind him, he suddenly felt alone with only one pair of eyes on him.

The floor was _cold_. As he was shoved down, he fell on his side, uttering the tiniest whimper. Shaun Hastings did _not_ whimper. Nor did he beg. But now, it was completely a different story.

"Mr. Hastings – what are we going to do with you?" Vidic asked curiously, crouching down to Shaun's body. He yanked off the blindfold and Shaun cringed from the immediate flash of light, closing his eyes in a heartbeat. Slowly, he opened them to see Vidic peering over him, eyes narrowed at his disillusioned state.

"Why haven't you killed me?" Shaun spoke softer than he intended – he had meant it to be a scream of hatred, but instead, it came out in the exact opposite format.

"Such a_ deep_ question, though isn't the answer quite obvious? You had answers we needed Shaun, and we got them. Now is a completely different story than it was an hour ago," Vidic smiled coldly and all of a sudden, uncalled warmth spread through Shaun's aching chest.

"Thank you..." he murmured, trying not to fall back into unconsciousness like after numerous times with the Animus. He was, in a way, safe in Abstergo; away from all the dangers on the outside of the glass building.

"Excuse me, Mr. Hastings?" He sounded surprised as Shaun shut his eyes shamelessly once again, trying to move his sore arms to grab where his glasses had fallen. Instead, he heard Vidic's hand scrape them up off the cold, concrete flooring and set them gently on his face. Shaun opened his eyes once again to find that the blurred images were gone, replaced by sharp corners and glaring, ice cold eyes. He stared into the eyes he had woken up to every single morning for the past month, standing above him. Or year. Shaun had lost track of time – it had seemed so useless to him as he spent most of his years in the Animus, skipping through irrelevant scenes for his malicious and relentless researchers.

"I said... Piss off, you pathetic wanker," finally, his tongue obeyed him as he lolled his head around, trying to find something to focus on. It was a blank room, only with a single hanging light glaring above them and four grey walls with a door that seemed to fade into the colourless paint. But the words felt wrong to him. That wasn't what he truly felt like saying.

"Well that wasn't very nice," Vidic sighed, pulling out a syringe from his pocket, smiling subtly. Shaun eyed the blue liquid inside of the needle dubiously, tranquillity washing over him. He was going to take all of Shaun's pain away, and put him back into the peaceful state that he longed for.

"Please... Please make it go away," Shaun whispered, wondering what his personality had deteriorated to. He still felt the hatred for Desmond bloody Miles; the man had escaped in the middle of night, leaving him all alone to his petrifying nightmares and the devastating Bleeding Effect. Sometimes, he felt distant to his body – as if he was back in his ancestor's state of mind. But when he was fully aware of whom he was, the fire built up and all he wanted to do was to tear Subject Seventeen apart.

"Make what go away, Shaun?" Vidic's eyes sparkled as he watched Shaun beg with his eyes, the way his body twisted as he tried to move closer to the needle that contained his sanity. This man was a doctor, someone who could heal him from his broken condition. Cold fingers touched his exposed neck, a sudden heat flushing his face.

"Keep me safe..." He had no idea what he was saying anymore, but he didn't care. He wanted to close his eyes and rest, wait for the next morning so he could reside in his comfort zone. The Templars were protecting him, there was no way they would harm him. Softly, Vidic's long, thin fingers touched his jaw, tracing a line up to his cheek bone before he placed his palm against his cheek, causing Shaun to sigh in content. Shaun moved his head, causing Vidic's thumb to gently brush against his dry lips, shuddering at the pleasing touch.

"Oh don't you worry, _Shaun_," there was a sudden lurch in his stomach as the doctor said his name. "We'll keep you safe from all the bad people trying to take you from us. No one will hurt you." If only Shaun had looked past the words, he would have found the sarcasm in his voice. He might have snapped out of his pretty little dream world and come to his senses. But instead, with hands behind his back, he curled in towards the doctor, pleading to him protect what was left of him.

Vidic's hand tentatively reached out and stroked his hair, smirking when Shaun let out a shaky breath, almost a small pant. With his free hand, he slowly lined up the needle's point with his jugular and, ignoring the small gasp below him, he plunged the needle in and released the liquid which would run its course through his blood stream in a matter of seconds. Over all his years of capturing Assassins and teaching them their life lesson, with a scar or loss as a small souvenir, he had never run into one quite like Shaun Hastings – their precious Subject Eighteen.

This was one he could manipulate against his fellow comrades, only because of his unexplainable - yet severe - case of Stockholm Syndrome.

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**A\N:** Well, this is quite interesting. It just kind of wrote itself, though I do love writing abuse with authority. And besides, I find Stockholm Syndrome is quite fascinating - what with the hostages feeling kindness and security towards their captors. Anyways, remember...

_**Review, please!**_ If you never noticed, I haven't been updating quite frequently... and I haven't been getting many reviews. I'm sure you can link the two together. *smile*


	2. The Ways Things Just Fall In Line

He looked over his shoulder, staring at the sleeping assassin.

Vidic had argued with the higher ups to give Shaun Hastings a better place to sleep, considering that the God forsaken bed in the laboratory was just as comfortable as lying on a slate of stone. But instead, he lay in front of the Templar, curled up on the blood red, silk blankets Vidic provided himself. They were a fitting colour, draped across Shaun's closely huddled body, as he snored lightly. Vidic had closed all the blinds, making sure no amount of sunlight leaked through and awoke the slumbering man. It was this day that he felt relieved, that changing one of the rooms connected to his office as a personal resting quarters wasn't a half bad idea. There were times where Vidic would spend hours, and sometimes days, in his own personal office, chipping away at the new research they found from their latest subject. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he looked back towards the bathroom, where the door was opened a slight crack. Just as he was getting up, the man behind him stirred, eyes fluttering open.

"Mm... hello?" Shaun murmured, still half asleep. He fished around for the glasses, which were hanging safety from Vidic's lab coat's breast pocket. The doctor shuffled over, took the glasses out of his pocket, unfolded them and handed them to the sleepy man.

"Good morning, Mr. Hastings," Vidic answered with a grin very prominent on his face. Shaun hesitantly took his glasses and slipped them on, letting his vision clear back to its fixed state. Slowly, he sat up and looked around him. It was a simple office room, at least six blinds pulled down to cover the massive, glass windows that took place of the walls. Around the room, various paintings were hung, none of them quite what he expected. One was of a plain red apple, sliced in half with multiple fruits along the sides of it; grapes, destroyed oranges and squashed tomatoes. Shaun questioned the interior decorator even more as he looked to the next painting, an apocalyptic land with sand blowing peacefully across the deserted, torn down buildings, with a single silhouette of a man standing in the middle of it all. Also, a single lush, healthy green plant stood in the corner of the room and Shaun was glad there was at least something positive in the room.

"Where am I...?" He felt safe – why was he asking where he was? Beneath the covers, he was guarded – shielded from whatever could hurt him. The older man in front of him protected him, held his fragile life in his, what seemed, unselfish hands. Instead of killing him like he had probably been instructed to – or so Shaun assumed – he had kept him alive, as a hostage, but treated him with the sincerity of a friend. In safe hands, Shaun could let go of the burden that had held him back before – besides, Shaun couldn't remember the last time the Templars had done anything cruel to him. Sure, they pushed him – but it was understandable. Now, Desmond Miles on the other hand...

"You're in my office – I trust you had a nice little nap?" Vidic leaned in, nipping Shaun's unshaven chin between his thumb and forefinger. Just as he was about to pull his hand away, Shaun grabbed it, letting the sheets flutter gracefully around his waist. To Vidic's surprise, Shaun cupped his hand then brought it close to his chest, slowly spreading out Vidic's fingers against his ravishing heartbeat. Shaun nodded slowly, feeling something twist inside his stomach.

"Can you feel that? It's all thanks to you..." Shaun mumbled, looking back up the usually fearful Templar leader. Instead, his features had softened and for a moment, he seemed as if he were an average man – not one who had killed more people than he cared to admit, under the operating table.

"My, my. How you've changed, Mr. Hastings. One moment you're snapping at us, trying to break free from our grasp and the next, you're as sweet as a puppy. Quite odd, isn't it?" He grinned, watching Shaun's eyes grow with a vast confusion.

"... Well, how could I not?" He suddenly grinned and Vidic smirked when he saw a certain gleam return to his eye. "Under your watch... I've come across no physical harm while with them... They've made me endure more than I thought I could take on. You've saved me, Vidic. _From them_."

Vidic had to bite back a laugh, wondering how gullible the historian truly was. But then again, it wasn't Shaun Hastings talking personally – it was the Stockholm syndrome.

"What an honest answer," the doctor allowed himself to laugh, raising an eyebrow as Shaun slowly took his hand and placed it upon his cheek, closing his eyes as he felt the old, brittle hands meet his smooth, young skin. It was a drastic contrast of texture but Shaun didn't pull away, instead, he relished it – this was his savoir, a man of knowledge and age; someone who knew better. He could teach him many things Assassins could not. As if to read his mind, Vidic pulled his hand away from the man's face and slowly brought it to his wrist. He gently pushed up the fabric of his grey sweater vest, revealing his upper arm. Shaun let out a tiny gasp when Vidic's cool fingers traced a line along one of the blue veins, his eyes calculating suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" Shaun raised an eyebrow, shuffling closer to the man.

"I'm curious to see if you could wield one of our new weapons... The Assassins are just outside the building and I believe you can take them on." He knew it – knew that Shaun would fight against their sworn enemies and take them down without a doubt. All because he pushed him forward, encouraged the lost man. Manipulation at its finest, Vidic liked to believe.

"I don't want to fight, I'm fully capable of staying here and delving deeper into the Animus," Shaun replied hurriedly, feeling a sudden fear break out. Vidic wouldn't push him out onto the battlefield, risk his life when someone else could do it. Shaun felt the selfishness dawn on him, but it didn't matter. He wanted to be safe and under the man's _caring _wing.

"Oh Shaun, don't worry – you'll be safe. I will personally make sure no harm comes your way. They're fighting a losing war, anyways," he grinned when Shaun's shoulders relaxed, returning back to their content state. Shaun nodded, staring at the lingering fingers that remained on his arm. He was a grown man and he would fight for those who protected those who kept him clear of the evil forces that were determined to tear him apart. If Desmond Miles was there, he wouldn't stand a chance.

"I knew you would, _Warren_..." Hearing him speak his first name caught the doctor by surprise as the man suddenly buried his face into the crook of his neck, smelling the faint scent of an expensive aftershave that the doctor chose especially for that day. He was like a cat in heat, except far worse with the way he was slowly wrapping his arms around the man's warming neck. "I'll fight if you keep me safe..." He allowed the ex-Assassin to hold him close, as perhaps a security blanket because for once, Vidic felt guilty.

No, he was right. He was going to keep Shaun Hastings safe.

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**A/N: **Let the creepyness continue! Woo! Anyways, I wasn't going to continue this but people on y-gallery suggested I should and I just got more inspiration to do it. So, hope you enjoyed! Pleaaase review - because see what happens? You get more! (:**  
**


	3. Protect Me From What I Want

"Desmond Miles – it's been a while," Vidic laughed over the intercom, eyeing his men who stood at the door of the laboratory.

Desmond nearly jumped out of his skin, hearing the familiar, disturbing voice. He stood in a long deserted hallway, having just finished off two security guards. Their bodies lay slumped against the bloodied walls, eyes shut in their final moments of life. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever and the Assassin had no doubt that he would be able to find what he came looking for. The British historian probably would have escaped his captors by now, evading the alert guards to meet Desmond somewhere along the exit. He looked up at a camera that was watching him, zooming in close enough to see the slight line of sweat forming on his brow.

Vidic barked out a laugh, playing with a pen in his hand. He would have full coverage of the reunion, much to his delight.

"Shaun?" Desmond shouted, breaking out into a full sprint as he made his way down the hallway, watching it stretch out longer and longer as he pressed on. He ran past glass panels, holding back guards who were eagerly waiting to get a piece of out Desmond Miles – after all, he had made them all look bad in his single hand escape. Though, Desmond was a still confused at why none of the doors were opening, unleashing the guards to swarm him. Perhaps they have given up on that tactic and were going to allow the assassin to get what he needed, then get out of there.

Suddenly, a man in a familiar grey sweater walked out and Desmond immediately recognized who it was. _"Shaun!"_

He ran up to the historian, looking him over quickly for any wounds. "Shaun, are you alright? Man, Lucy is going to be so relived! You look as if they hadn't touched you the slightest bit, lucky dog," Desmond grinned, sheathing his hidden blade back into its mechanism. He placed both hands on the man's shoulder, shaking him slightly, trying to get a rise out of him. "Hey, Shaun – are you there? Hello, anyone home?" He smiled weakly, shaking him a little harder. Then the worst thought suddenly ran across his mind – what if the Bleeding Effect had torn him apart? He quickly looked at his eyes, only to feel a sudden sting across his torso. Instantly, he jumped back to see a sharp point coming out of Shaun's sleeve.

"Shaun? What... what are you doing?" He looked down to see that there was a large tear across his sweater and a small tint of red.

"You thought you could save me? _Rescue_ me? What is there to protect me from here, Desmond?" Shaun laughed, baring his hidden blade with a grin. Desmond winced as he took a step back, on the very edge, hands shaking slightly. What could they have done to Shaun?

"Are you an idiot with a death wish? It's the fucking _Templars_, Shaun! Once they're done with you, they'll kill you! Either that or drive you insane like Subject Sixteen!" He watched as Shaun merely raised an eyebrow, amused at Desmond's retaliation.

"Dr. Vidic said he would keep me alive – that I was important to them," Shaun replied with a smug smirk, leaning on his toes slightly. Desmond could see he was getting ready to jump and that he had no other choice. Something was wrong with him and Desmond just needed to get the fuck out of there. If perhaps, he could lure him out of the facility and get him to Lucy and Rebecca, they could help him.

"Warren Vidic is lying, the filthy bastard!" Desmond shouted and instantly turned on his heels, sprinting full speed down the hallway. He could hear Shaun immediately take after him, both of their footsteps in sync with his furiously beating heart.

"Oh Desmond, your words sadden me so. And you can't expect Shaun to stay on the side of constant danger, can you? The Templars are a more... suiting place for him," Vidic's voice echoed through the hallway, causing Desmond to shout out in frustration as he heard Shaun getting closer. The man wouldn't actually kill him, would he? Desmond cursed himself internally for forgetting which way he came in because now, everything looked the same. There were twists and turns, like a maze made especially to throw him off this chase. He took a sudden right turn, almost slipping as his sneakers skidded across the flooring and for a moment, he thought he wasn't going to make the turn. But instantly, his legs flexed and he was up and running again.

"Lucy and Rebecca were worried sick about you!" Desmond shouted as he ran, between quick pants. He heard no reply, only the sound of his shoes hitting the floor over and over again, hot on his trail. He took another turn, manoeuvring himself quickly around a random guard who fell over as Shaun pushed past him. Quickly, Desmond looked over his shoulder and felt his stomach drop. Shaun had leapt against the wall then instantly ricocheted off the other wall and without missing a beat, leapt for Desmond and tackled him down onto the floor roughly.

Quickly, Shaun's hand slipped under Desmond's neck, applying pressure to his Adam's apple. Straddling him on his back, the historian leaned forward and brought out his hidden blade and pressed it tightly to Desmond's neck. Already he was drawing blood as it ran down his fingers and began to drip in small quantities onto the floor.

"Shaun, don't kill him!" Warren's voice came out through the intercom and Shaun growled, not budging as Desmond was still as a statue. "As much as I can see you wish to finish him, we could still use the man. Just take him back to the laboratory."

Shaun scowled and instantly sheathed the hidden blade, allowing it to give Desmond a quick slice before he grabbed him by the back of his white sweater and yanked him upwards.

"You're lucky – I _would_ have killed you," Shaun sneered, pushing Desmond forward back to the offices in which he came from. Desmond cringed as they stepped forward, feeling the burn of the quick run and the injury on his torso.

"Shaun, you've gone insane... We need you back at the stronghold... with the _Assassins_..." Desmond mumbled, feeling the world spin a little. His feet shuffled lazily as Shaun pushed him on, threatening him with the slight poke of his hidden blade. "The Templars are only using you for what they need, especially Vidic. He doesn't care at all, Shaun. He's not going to keep you safe, no matter what he says. He's a manipulative _bastard_ who will do anything to obtain what he desires the most and-

"Shut up! You know nothing of him and by staying by his side I've come into no harm what so ever. He's making me stronger and with this company, we're going to make the world a better place. Your 'rescuing' was in vain," Shaun snorted, his lips turning into an insidious smile. "The Assassins are wrong, Desmond. To stop the Templars would stop a giant global change, one for the greater good-"

"No, now _you're_ wrong!" Desmond broke free of his grasp, his chest burning with pain as he turned around, only to have Shaun's fist connect with the right side of his face. He fell back and Shaun jerked him up again, shoving him down the hallway aggressively.

"Move, or else I _will_ kill you whether Vidic wishes it or not," Shaun hissed, noting how close they were to the doors of Vidic's office. He managed to get the reluctant Assassin to the door and open it with a quick swipe of a borrowed key card, then push the man inside. The main office was larger than most regulars in a building – it was quite spacious with a desk at the end, surrounded by enormous glass windows, allowing the resident to see below into the brightly lit up city. Tapestries hung from the wall in limited colours; dark red, luminous gold or a solid black – the colours of the Templars. The rug was woven together in an exquisite design, something that no one else would possess with its unique, complex patterns and distinctive swirls. Desmond noted that on an open spot of wall, there was a sword hung up on display – the tip shone with a tiny fraction of sun reflecting off its surface.

"Mr. Miles, what a pleasant surprise," Vidic grinned, sitting behind his grand desk, palms splayed out as if he was welcoming an old friend. Desmond merely scowled, pushed forward from the man behind him. "What happened to your neck?"

"I don't exactly know myself, Vidic," he hissed between gritted teeth, feeling the sharp sting when he turned his head slightly. Already, he felt a small stream of blood spilling into his shirt, running down his chest. "It couldn't have been Shaun Hastings fault, because that's _not_ him!"

"Oh that is very much so Shaun Hastings, just as much as you're Desmond Miles and I am Warren Vidic-"

"No! You've_ brain washed_ him or something... He's an Assassin, not a fucking _Templar!_" Desmond shouted, cutting the doctor off. Fists clenched, he watched as Vidic sighed heavily and closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

"I'm not a Templar either, Desmond," Shaun shoved him forward to the desk and finally stopped when Desmond bumped against the edge. "Warren's simply protecting me from the war I've already proved myself worthy of. He's keeping me safe – something I haven't been able to be for the longest-"

"_What about Lucy? Or Rebecca?"_ Desmond broke free of Shaun's hold and shoved him back, deeply regretting it as the wound flared with pain. "Have you forgotten about them? They've been worried sick!" He breathed, trying to fight the pain that was building at a ridiculous pace.

"What about them? The Templars will find them and do whatever Vidic desires them to do," Shaun smirked, ready in case the Assassin made a move against him. But he could see that he was hurting, and was in no position to make a dangerous and costly move.

"Oh! Shaun, you're going to tell me the whereabouts of their hide out then? This would make keeping you safe _so_ much easier," Vidic smiled at the historian, leaning his elbows on his desk as he interlaced his fingers together in a sinister pose.

"I know," and Desmond couldn't believe what he was hearing as he watched Shaun tell the man their location, how many people were there and how exactly to get past the security they set up. He was betraying his friends, his colleges. An instant rage built up in Desmond and he couldn't stop himself from leaping out at the historian, hidden blade extracted. Shaun had caught it early, but hadn't moved fast enough to completely avoid the attack. He fell to the ground as Desmond jumped on top of him and attempted to plunge his blade into the man's neck, but missed and slid it through it shoulder like butter.

For a moment, Vidic thought he had lost his most favourable tool but within a second, Desmond had been bucked off and fell back. It gave the doctor just enough time to quickly open his drawer and pounce on the struggling Assassin. In a heartbeat, he bit off the cap and pushed the needle into Desmond's neck, instantly knocking him out. With him rendered unconscious, he turned back to Shaun, who was sitting up and clutching his shoulder, which was bleeding heavily.

"Y-you bastard! You were supposed to protect me but you failed!" Shaun shouted, wincing when Vidic crouched down beside him and gently touched his wound.

"Oh you'll be fine – stop being such a whiny wuss," he grunted, carefully brushing away Shaun's hand – which was acting like a magnet to the injury. Shaun pulled back away from him, eyes bitter as he slowly got to his feet, the world spinning around him. Much to his distaste, he felt an arm grab his shoulder and steady him.

"Let me... go..." He murmured, trying to pull away pathetically. All he was concentrating on was the pain and before he could get another word in, he passed out.

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**A/N:** Woo! Sorry for the late chapter. It's late because, well, none of my beta editors have been around. So I read this outloud to myself to look for any errors, so I hope I did I decent job of that. Anyways, this is easily becoming my favourite story. Want to see more of it?

Well, just review! D And should I include any slash in this? If so, drop a line and suggest why!


	4. Silent in the Dark

**Silent in the Dark**

"Warren, just because he is suffering from Stockholm syndrome does not mean he will do all our bidding for us. Neither will he remain loyal to us if you continue to put him in more danger when you promised him the opposite," Alan Rikkin scoffed, causing a slight murmur in the room.

"I did not put him in danger! Shaun merely left himself open for a second and-"

"You put him in danger, Warren. You put him in front of Desmond Miles, who could have been dispatched with a team that would have -"

"Alan, you are wrong!" Vidic shouted, causing plenty of faces to twist into worried and shocked expressions. He was standing at the edge of a large table in their conference room, which was two floors below his office – where Shaun was currently residing in a deep slumber. "The teams at Abstergo have done nothing to help the situation at hand and even so, I do not want Desmond Miles – descendant of Altair Ibn La'Ahad – killed! He is still of good use to us and do not try to argue with me against this one. I have seen the memories, gone through the research and I know what this man holds in his DNA. There's more to what we uncovered with the small amount of time we had with him before he escaped. I believe it was your men who let Desmond slip through their defences?" Vidic ended his monologue with a smirk and sat back down in his chair, arms folded across his chest with an evident smugness. Alan heaved a massive sigh as he looked at the many faces in the conference room. The CEO shot a quick glance to his assistant, Audrey Jacobs, who nodded meekly in agreement.

"Fine, Warren. Keep Desmond and do whatever research you think would benefit_ us_ but do keep Shaun out of trouble – he has been a good use for us and I don't want to terminate his contract so soon." Vidic nodded and mumbled a fake, sincere sounding apology before the CEO dismissed everyone and they returned back to their schedules. Vidic could have checked on Desmond, who was back in the faithful bed he had spent a week in before he escaped with the help of Lucy Stillman. If he ever saw that woman again, she would be dead – it wasn't like she had any extravagant uses for the Templars. Although, he felt somewhat sad to have seen her go and betray them like she had; the woman had been reasonably smart and often helped out her superior when he needed it.

So instead, Vidic took the elevator two stories up and went back to his office.

He quietly tiptoed through the room and made his way to the second door, where Shaun Hastings should be sleeping. And there the historian was, on his back with a face scrunched up in discomfort. Gently, the scientist made his way to the edge of the bed, looming over the sleeping man. He let his eyes trail from the bandages, which were tinted a soft red, to Shaun's untouched body. He was well built; muscles chiselled to fit a strong, physical assassin except Vidic knew that the man hadn't fought for a long time. That he had behind the desk for far too long, wasting away with a vast internal knowledge, longing to be back out on the field – actually getting something done, as he had stated long before the Animus sessions.

Whoever had stitched him up, Vidic would have to thank them later.

Slowly, without much thought, Warren pulled back the sheets to reveal that his doctor had at least kept Shaun's jeans on. But of course, there was no wound that would ensure their removal. For a moment, he scolded himself for such inappropriate thoughts. Surely, the much younger man would take no interest in one with Vidic's age. Once again, the scientist questioned himself and why was asking himself such blasphemous questions. Suddenly, Vidic's cell phone began to beep loudly, vibrating in his pants pocket. Before he could ignore the call, Shaun stirred, opening his eyes with reluctance. Very slowly, Vidic flipped open his phone and pressed the red button to ignore the call, deciding he would listen to Rikkin's trash later. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Shaun jumped up and banged his back against the headboard, eyes filled with a wild panic.

He had seen that look before in the unstable Subject Sixteen.

"Shaun, be reasonable..." Alan's words rung throughout his head. Treat him with kindness, receive it in return but treat him with hatred or disdain and prepare for a fight. "I'm sorry to let you down like that. It shouldn't have happened but-"

"How could you? When you promised me you'd keep me safe! You lied! How do you expect me to trust you again?" Shaun shouted, bunching the sheets in his tightly clenched fists. He stared into the apathetic eyes of his captor, questioning his true intentions.

"Now, please, listen here Shaun," Vidic tried his softest voice but it was like a lion trying to whisper to a terrified mouse caught in a corner. He coughed, clearing his throat. "I never meant to hurt you – it was Desmond Miles who did this. He attacked you, wounded you, and spilled your blood. It was _him_, not me." Warren could see the words trickling their way inside his aching brain, making certain things click where they shouldn't have. Instead, they should have been causing him to run away, far from the Templar scientist.

"How do I know you're not lying to me? You're bringing me into another false sense of faith!" Shaun snapped, his eyes coloured with a bright doubt, wary of the hand that had been extended awkwardly to him.

"Shaun Hastings, I did not hurt you. And it will remain that way as long as you stay by my side. And if Desmond Miles ever hurts you again...? Well, I'll be sure his head is ripped off and he is torn to pieces until your heart is content of what he had suffered," Vidic's eyes were lit ablaze as his thoughts trailed off to the grisly death of his rival, the young Assassin. He was jerked out of his thoughts as he felt the bed's weight shift as his glance met with Shaun's, who was carefully dragging himself back to the older man. Continuing his brilliant charade, Vidic kicked off his shoes and swung his legs onto the bed, more relaxed as he moved up, back against the headboard. He watched in pure amazement as the younger man curled up into his side, cautious of his injured shoulder.

"Do you promise?" He whispered, suddenly feeling his blanket of security droop snugly over his sore body. It warmed his core, filling his panicking mind with the ignorant bliss it desired and needed to survive this profane ordeal.

"Yes, I promise," he whispered and once again, Shaun only heard the words and completely missed his scathing and threatening tone. Gently, he took off Shaun's glasses and set them on the night stand beside him, watched the man crawl up to his captor and wrapped an arm around his waist, while he rested against the other one. He winced as he tried to find a comfortable position, trying to not upset his bandaged wound. Vidic had been hoping he would say something that would secure his thoughts, make him a hundred percent positive that the feeble assassin wouldn't turn his back on him in the blink of an eye. But instead, he fell asleep, chest rising and falling in sync with his slow heart beat. He was in the arms of a ruthless killer, but that didn't seem to bother him the slightest bit.

So Vidic stroked his hair, the way a ringmaster would that of a tamed lion.

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**A/N: **Hey guys it's me! Sorry I've taken so long to update this story or anything. I just got into our new house and just moments ago they set up our internet. Also, blame the big writer's block. This chapter had been finished a month or so ago but I never got around to updating. So in the next few days, I'll upload the new chapter. Thanks for being patient! (:


	5. Music to His Ears

It was a sweet serenade as each grunt was louder than the other.

He watched as Shaun took down each of his test dummies with simplicity, a fluid motion in his crushing movements. The men fell down with loud groans or cries of pain as his fist collided with bone or fleshy areas, causing them to lean over doubled or fall to the floor. It left their selves wide open for Shaun to deliver the final blow, which he always landed without fail. Sweat dripped along his back as a new wave of amateur henchmen came out, all ready for their beatings. Tired, Shaun let his shoulders sag and from the observation room, Vidic saw this. But with a sick satisfaction, he wasn't going to let him finish. Not until his knuckles bled and he screamed to stop.

But he never did.

Vidic watched him fight for at least an hour, throwing out moves, creating new combos to take on the stronger men. He was impressed because of Shaun's determination but Vidic knew why he kept fighting, pushing himself the way he did. If he stopped, he would get hurt. And there was no way that was going to happen again. He didn't even seem to feel the wound in his shoulder, seeing as three days were put aside for rest so it could heal. Perhaps he felt a burn, but he never showed any pain as he took down another of Vidic's men, knocking the air out of them with a swift punch to the chest.

"Well, he shows promise," Alan sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at Vidic with a twisted grin. "And what exactly are you going to do with Subject Seventeen? He's quite charming, though a bit speechless in his current state at the moment – oh right, you put him in a coma. _Codardo." _

"_Mi dispiace veramente," _Vidic replied with the driest of sarcasm, looking at Shaun the way a child looked into the window of a brand new toy shop.

"Do you think he'll be able to withstand the Bleeding Effect?" Alan asked as he joined the scientist's side, observing the way Shaun countered two men at once, coating the floor with a new layer of blood.

"I think he's been coping very well compared to Subject Seventeen. The level of power his fighting skills are seem much more than I expected for a mere historian," Vidic grinned, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Shaun deliver a strong kick to another man's gut, knocking him down to the floor.

"A historian?" Alan looked at him, expecting his collage to continue on.

"Yes, a historian. He's very knowledgeable of the 15th century, that of Renaissance Italy. Ringing any bells, Alan?" Rikkin's jaw dropped as he looked at Vidic, eyes wild with thought. "He is unwilling to tell me anymore, but I am quite sure I can get something more out of him. After all, I am his 'protector'," Vidic laughed as he focused his gaze back on his test subject, who was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by unconscious bodies. He was breathing very, very hard.

"Some protector you are," Alan snickered, earning a small chuckle from Vidic as he waved at one of the technicians. It was more logical to keep at least a _little_ life in him.

"Alright, Shaun, you can stop now. Vidic feels that you've exhausted you strength and that you should rest. Just come out of the door over here," the man announced over a loud speaker, causing Shaun to nod and make his way to the door, legs heavy as lead. He opened the door to find Vidic and a strange man staring at him, both with wide grins on their face.

"Shaun, I'd like you to meet Alan Rikkin – CEO of Abstergo. Yes, it's quite hard to believe there are others higher up than me, hm?" Alan laughed and slapped his co-worker on the back before he extended a hand to Shaun, which he eagerly shook.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rikkin," Shaun breathed heavily between each word, his whole body drenched with a thick coat of sweat. His face was flushed and his arms and legs ached from such a work out.

"But it is all mine, Shaun. You're going to prove yourself worthy of Abstergo and we might even have a position open for you!"

"Now, now, Alan, don't go giving the man any ideas. He's under my watch and only listens to me, yes?" Vidic rubbed his beard and looked at Shaun, who nodded with a small smirk. "Now, you look like you could use a shower. What do you say, Shaun?"

"I say, no shit Sherlock. Lead me there," Shaun grinned much to Vidic's delight, who put an arm around his shou;der and said goodbye to his boss before they began their way down the hallway. Vidic could feel the heat radiating off him, like a personal heater that was now his own.

"So, how was your fight?" He could see that Shaun was still breathing heavily, moving a tad bit slower than usual. He must have been aching all over, longing for a comfortable shower and bed.

"It was... alright. At least I know if I see Desmond again I'll be able to take him down, the bloody wanker," Shaun growled, grinning as they made their way into the elevator. Vidic laughed and pulled his arm away to press the button that would carry them up to his office. It was in there he could take a shower and relax, letting his guard down for Vidic to ask him some simple questions.

"Why don't you ever tell me about Ezio, Shaun? You know so much about him and the knowledge on him could greatly help Abstergo in their fight for the greater good," Vidic looked over at Shaun, who suddenly tensed up. It was like something refrained him from sharing the details he knew; as if someone had put all the information in a safe and tossed away the key.

"I just... can't. Sorry," Shaun mumbled as he watched the numbers about floors light up as they went a story higher. Finally when they came to their floor, Shaun rushed out and began to make his way to the office. Already, he knew the layout of their floors off by heart, which made him slightly at ease being surrounded by all the enormous men and mad scientists that roamed the grounds. Vidic followed behind him, watching his every move carefully. Shaun was getting skittish and just the thought alone worried him.

"Something is there, telling me not to tell and every time I want to, it's like my voice ceases to stop. Quite childish, like a young toddler trying to own up to the ketchup scratch he put in his daddy's brand new car but just can't." Shaun announced all of a sudden as his hand remained on the doorknob. He looked at Vidic, who was contemplating Shaun's words, trying to think of a way to break down the barrier between what he was willing to tell and wasn't.

"Interesting," Vidic nodded slowly and took a seat at his desk, dismissing Shaun to take his shower.

Shaun stood under the hot water of the glass shower, relishing in its soothing comfort.

With a palm pressed against the black tiles, he let the water run down his aching back and his right hung loosely beside him. He hadn't thought he had it in him, to fight all the men and end up on top. It had been so effortless that Shaun felt like he could do it all over again – if he didn't have to be as sore _afterwards_.

Although with all the thoughts running through his head, he had always pushed his libido off to the side but being exposed in another man's shower did something for him. As soon as he looked down, Shaun saw that his member was hardening, much to his frustration. Glancing around, Shaun made sure Vidic or anyone hadn't snuck in and once he knew the coast was clear, he slowly ran his right hand down his thigh and eventually rested it on his length. Groaning and panting slightly, Shaun thought of all the things that pissed him off; the fact Desmond was still alive, that he didn't know where he was, frustrated at the fact Vidic was keeping his distance in a fairly teasing manner and he was trapped to the office like a bird in a cage. Leaning further into the wall, Shaun groaned as he quickened his pace, trying to satisfy his self with the images he projected in his hand. Before he knew it, he had already hit climax and was merely standing under the water, wasting it.

After washing his hair quickly, lathering his whole body with soap and rinsing it all off, Shaun stepped out, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. It was a medium sized bathroom, perhaps the size of the one they had back in the laboratory – except more decorative and less looking like a jail cell. Picking up another dark red towel, Shaun dried his hair and pulled on his clothes, frowning as he caught a slight odour from them. He would have to ask Vidic if they could stop by a dry cleaner at some time but in the meanwhile, he needed a new set of clothes.

"Absolutely not," Vidic scowled, leaning back in his chair as he stared at Shaun.

"I'm a grown, bloody man! I should be able to do whatever I want – I'm not going to let an old man tell me what to do!" Shaun hissed through his firmly clenched teeth, feeling himself wind up as he began to make his way to the door, adjusting his sweater slightly.

"Fine – you may go. But I'll be accompanying you, Shaun," Vidic breathed as he stood up, pushing his chair back in. It was perfect timing to begin his persuasion.

"I don't need to be fucking babysat," Shaun snapped back, already turning the knob.

"No, but I worry that the other Assassins may have learned that you captured Desmond – they won't exactly welcome you back with open arms, Mr. Hastings," Vidic crooned, grinning when Shaun stopped in his tracks.

"... It doesn't matter. I don't want anything to do with them. They-"

"Yes, yes, they hurt your feelings and such the Templars are marvellous men who help you so much," Vidic was finding it hard to continue with a straight face and a regular toned voice. "But Shaun, they'll look at you then pull their hidden blades out – you'll be a dead man before you can even say tell them to stop." Vidic savoured Shaun's expression as it went from a confident smirk to a fear filled grimace.

"... Are you sure about that?" Shaun asked dubiously and looked over his shoulder at Vidic, who was now right behind him.

"Positive," he smirked and slipped his hand up the side of Shaun's shirt, running his hand along the man's hip, feeling the heat of his skin. Shaun gasped slightly, feeling himself blush as he felt Vidic's breath tickled his ear, sending ice cold shivers rigid down his spine. "Now let's take my car, it's down at the basement floor right near the elevator."

"What kind of car is it?" Shaun cursed internally when Vidic removed his hand, taking along the warmth with him.

"It's a 2012, yellow Porsche. It's quite comfortable – better than my bed you've taken, ever since you've lain in it."

"Maybe I'll take the car too then," Shaun grinned, feeling a sudden desire overcome him.

* * *

**A/N:** Yay! Two quick chapters - you guys are lucky! I've been feeling rather inspired lately though the problem is - it's only on this work or random oneshots I start up. I'm trying very hard to push No One Knows further, along with Plug in Baby (Are You Gonna Be My Man? is pretty much... well, done. I can't think of where to get it to lead). Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this one - 'cause the fun is just getting started!


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